Life Itself
by The Lionhearted Phoenix
Summary: "Love is ruthless. It destroys people. All it is is a promise no one can ever keep."


**A/N: Anyone else feel super queerbaited by The Play That Must Not Be Named? Cause I did. So I fixed it! Also played with the timeline set in **The Play That Must Not Be Named** a bit, but since **The Play That Must Not Be Named** isn't really canon, I don't really care :)**

 **Written for The Hunger Games Fanfic Style III Competition. Prompts listed at the bottom.**

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 **Life Itself**

The day Scorpius came back to school, the sky was the brightest he'd ever seen it. The weather was absolutely perfect, the lake was shimmering with sunlight, the leaves of the Whomping Willow were waving lazily in the gentle breeze—and he hated every bit of it. He wanted stormy skies, violent winds, anything at all to counter the numbness he had been feeling for the last week. Anything at all to cut through this hollow feeling in his heart.

The moment he entered the Great Hall, Albus's eyes found him, as if he had been looking all this time. Scorpius watched as his best friend abandoned his favorite treacle tart and dashed across the hall, throwing his arms around him. Scorpius returned the hug half-heartedly, noting the whispers and stares of the other students in the hall. He could read the pity in their eyes. Albus seemed to notice, too; he turned and gave the hall a collective glare before grabbing Scorpius's arm and muttering in his ear, "Screw them. Come on, let's get out of here."

Scorpius let Albus lead him away from the Great Hall, following him up the marble staircase. "You won't believe what happened the other day. So, Rose and I were in Charms, right, and Flitwick's showing us how to do a Color-Changing Charm…."

They continued on through the halls of Hogwarts, Albus going on about how Rose had pulled off a perfect Color-Changing Charm only to lose ten points from Gryffindor when she applied her newfound knowledge toward turning Flitwick's hair pink.

"And he turned so red it was like he'd been dunked in a bucket of paint, you should've seen it! Elaine Goldberg was laughing so hard she nearly wet herself, I swear on my life."

Scorpius gave a fleeting smile. Albus glanced at him as they reached the seventh-floor corridor, his grin fading away. "Sorry, mate," he said, more quietly. "I thought that might cheer you up."

"Yeah. It was funny. Thanks, Al."

He could feel Albus's eyes on him. "You okay, Scor?"

"Sure. I'm great. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Look," said Albus softly, "if you want to talk about it—"

"I really, _really_ don't," said Scorpius. Albus bit his lip at the sharpness in his voice; Scorpius tried not to look at him. "Just—tell me another story."

"I'm fresh out," said Albus. "Unless you want to hear the one about my dad turning into a peacock again."

"Sure. Anything."

Albus bit his lip again, and Scorpius clenched his hands into fists by his side. "Hey," said Albus. "You want to go up to the Astronomy Tower?"

"We're not allowed," said Scorpius dully.

Albus grinned at him. "When has that ever stopped us before?" He reached out his hand. "Come on, I know you like the view."

Scorpius looked at him, taking in his disheveled black hair and twinkling green eyes. "I do," he said.

Albus's grin widened, and he grabbed Scorpius's hand, pulling him down the corridor. They found their way to the winding spiral staircase and began to climb it, Albus taking the lead and Scorpius following. At last they emerged on the tower; the wind was colder up here, and Scorpius shivered slightly as he made his way to the edge, leaving Albus behind him. From here he could see the lake and the dark tops of the trees of the Forbidden Forest, and beyond that the mountains, shrouded in mist. Scorpius clutched the wall, feeling the edges of the stones digging into his palms.

He felt rather than heard Albus come up behind him, joining him at the wall. "It looks nicer in the daylight," Albus said. "We should do this more often."

"What, break the rules?"

"Well, we do plenty of that anyway," said Albus, laughing. "But if we're going to get detention, we should at least get a nice view out of it. I much prefer this to the inside of a classroom."

Scorpius gazed out into the distance. Something large and black rose up out of the forest, winging its way across the sky before diving back down into the depths of the trees.

"There's a thestral there," he said, pointing to where it had disappeared.

Albus watched him. "You can see them now."

Scorpius nodded. A sudden icy wind gusted past them, pricking tears in Scorpius's eyes. "I didn't think I'd…she was still alive when I got there. I didn't think I'd have to…."

His face felt cold. He reached up and found that his cheeks were wet, and he quickly wiped them with the sleeve of his robes.

"At least you got to say goodbye," Albus said gently.

Scorpius shook his head. "She probably didn't even understand me. Dad said she was delirious. She was all clammy and sweaty, and her eyes were like—it was like she was looking through me. But…." His fingers were trembling, and he gripped the edge of the wall harder. "I don't know. There was a moment where I thought she might have actually seen me. And then, a minute later, she was—she was gone."

Albus laid his hand over Scorpius's, but Scorpius shrugged him off, moving to the other side of the tower and wrapping his arms around himself.

"Scor," said Albus behind him, so softly that he could barely hear his voice over the wind. "I'm really sorry."

"I told you I didn't want to talk about it," Scorpius said in a hard voice. He rested his elbows on the wall, laying his chin in his hands.

"Scor," Albus said again. Scorpius closed his eyes at the sound of his nickname. No one called him Scor except Albus. "Scor, will you please look at me? I'm trying to help."

"Help?" Scorpius gave a hollow laugh. "How can you help? My mother is dead. Nothing can fix that." The words were blunt on his tongue, and he relished in the momentary pain they caused him.

There was a long, taut silence between them. Scorpius watched as the doors to the castle opened, letting a stream of students out onto the lawn. From here, they looked smaller than ants, tiny dark dots against the lush green grass. Scorpius leaned forward over the edge to get a better look; he caught himself before he could tip forward, his stomach lurching slightly, sending a jolt up through his heart.

"Scorpius?" said Albus. "Are you okay?"

Scorpius turned to look at him; he was chewing his lower lip, watching Scorpius with anxious eyes. Before Scorpius could stop himself, he snapped, "For the love of Merlin, will you please stop biting your lip?"

Albus looked surprised, closing his lips. They were pinker, slightly more full than usual. Scorpius could see the dents his teeth had made in his bottom lip. "What do you care if I bite my lip?" Albus said, nonplussed.

"It's just—you're just—" Scorpius gripped his upper arms tightly, digging his nails in. "You're _infuriating!_ " he said angrily. "You and your stupid lips, and the way you always ruffle up your hair, and the way you sort of smile to yourself when you figure out something on your homework—it's just so infuriating!"

"Why are you picking a fight with me?" said Albus, sounding entirely baffled.

"Because I—" Scorpius swallowed back the words with difficulty. "No," he said forcefully, turning away. "I'm not doing this."

"Doing—"

"I'm _not doing this_." He clenched his hands into fists. "I can't—I _won't._ I saw what it did to my dad when she died, I saw how it destroyed him. He's never going to be the same again, and I'm not going to—I can't do it. Not now." He was half talking to himself. There was a strange rushing sound in his ears. His heart felt like it was trembling in his chest.

"Scorpius," Albus said, his voice sounding slightly strained. "What are you saying?"

"Nothing." He let out a short exhale. "Forget it."

There was a beat of silence. " _Oh_ ," said Albus. His voice shook. "Scor…."

Footsteps approached him. Albus reached out, tentatively laying a hand on his shoulder. "Scorpius…." Scorpius looked at him with difficulty. His pupils had dilated, a thin band of green ringing the black. "Scor," Albus breathed.

Scorpius pulled away. "Don't," he said roughly. " _Don't._ "

"Why not?" said Albus softly.

Scorpius shook his head. "Love is ruthless," he said bluntly. "It destroys people. All it is is a promise no one can ever keep. Look at my mum—look at your grandparents. They died and left everyone behind, everyone who loved them, and all anyone got out of it was pain."

"My grandparents died loving each other," Albus said. "They died to protect my dad, because they loved him. I don't think there's anything more powerful than that."

Scorpius gave a mirthless laugh. "Don't you see? Love is _death_. No, it's worse than death, because at least death is the end. But love, it tears you apart and leaves you to pick up the pieces. I _hate_ it. My mum…." His voice cracked. "No," he said viciously. "I don't ever want to love again."

"That's not true," said Albus quietly. "You're just afraid."

"I'm _not_ ," said Scorpius furiously.

"Scor," Albus whispered, stepping closer to him. Scorpius felt rooted to the spot; he wanted to run, but Albus was drawing nearer and nearer, and it was as if they were magnets, pulled toward each other, and then Albus's fingers were on Scorpius's jaw, and then they were kissing.

And warmth flooded through Scorpius, melting the ice in his veins, burning through the numbness in his fingers and toes, and he understood. Love wasn't death, love was life itself, and Albus was the air he needed to survive. He pulled Albus closer to him, and his body burned at the points where it made contact with Albus's, sending a sizzling energy up his arms. His heart was pounding with fear—no, with passion, with a spirit so vibrant that Scorpius's fingers trembled as they swam through Albus's hair, tumbled down his neck, found their way to his chest where he could feel Albus's heart beating as furiously as his own, almost in sync.

When at last they broke apart, Scorpius felt as if his very bones were buzzing. Albus was breathing heavily, his hands shaking as he stumbled back, catching himself against the wall.

For a moment, they could only stare at each other. Finally, Scorpius found his voice. "Are—are you going to kill me?"

Albus gave a strangled laugh. "What?"

"I'm serious." Scorpius pressed his back against the door. "If you kiss me like that again, I think it might kill me. I think my heart is literally going to explode."

Albus grinned widely. "Me too. I guess we'll just have to take our chances."

This time it was Scorpius who stepped forward to close the gap between them, who reached out to touch Albus's cheek. "When did you grow a beard?" he murmured, running his fingers across the light fuzz of hair along Albus's jaw.

"I don't know. I might shave it."

"Don't you dare," said Scorpius. Albus gave a breathless laugh, interrupted as Scorpius swept his lips gently against Albus's. The kiss was gentle this time, lips brushing each other like feathers. Scorpius could taste the salt of Albus's skin.

"See?" said Albus as they pulled away from each other. "A bit of snogging can fix everything."

Scorpius stared at him for a moment—and then he burst into laughter, scrabbling at the wall as he slid down it, howling. Albus joined him on the floor, and his laugh was like music, the sound of a violin in a storm, of a piano against the wind. It felt as if something had opened inside Scorpius; he had never felt so free.

It didn't feel so cold anymore. Scorpius could feel the heat radiating off Albus's body, like he was standing next to a fireplace. Scorpius exhaled, looking at him. "Al?"

"Yeah, Scor?"

"I think it's really sexy when you bite your lip."

Albus laughed, dragging his teeth exaggeratedly across his bottom lip. His eyes were glittering playfully; Scorpius could see the whole world reflected in them, shimmering with possibilities of hope regained, hearts unbroken, wounds healed. In Albus's eyes, Scorpius could see everything.

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 **A/N: Written for The Hunger Games Fanfic Style III Competition (Day Five).**

Prompts:

(Word) Ruthless

(Emotion) Fear

(Dialogue) "Are you going to kill me?"


End file.
